Four Short Words
by Abigail Emery
Summary: Sometimes it takes a brush with death for true feelings to come out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I just wanted to add a quick note here instead of the bottom—[in the beginning] Dawson will have a small crush on Casey, but nowhere near as much as in the show.

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Chapter 1

"SHAY!" It felt like she was watching in slow motion, yet it happened in the blink of an eye, Shay's figure slowly getting smaller until a deep thud sounded that even Dawson heard over the few story distance. Her arm automatically reached out, as if she could catch the suddenly motionless blonde below. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the thudding in her ears. All she could do was watch. Watch in bewildered shock. Like one of those people who stood around the scene of an accident, staring in awe at the image in front of them, not doing anything.

She'd never felt so lost, not knowing what to do. She was trained for this; why couldn't she just think? Her mind was foggy and she merely stared down at Shay. It was her own fault that she didn't realize they were too close to the edge, prompting Shay to fall.

The ground shaking ever so slightly and the faint sound of rumbling and crackling immediately cleared Dawson's mind. She broke her gaze from Shay's small figure to the cracking ground directly beneath her. She could feel the floor starting to give way. She crawled back on her hands and knees, standing up and twisting around simultaneously so she could get away and not end up at least three floors down lying next to her partner. An instinctive scream escaped her lips and drained her lungs when the floor collapsed too soon, crumbling away like a growing waterfall, a cascade of rubble, taking her with it. She reached for anything, something, hoping to grab a hold of a sturdy object to prevent her falling. Her hands found a small opening in the flooring, a pipe or a thin piece of wood, and she temporarily found some stability in it. Something sharp and gravelly scraped at her knuckles on immediate contact but that was the least of her worries.

She yelled out for help, hoping someone was still in the building and within earshot after all occupants were evacuated and rescued and the fire was put out. She dared to look down through the smog passed her helplessly dangling legs. She knew it would only make things worse and send her stress levels plummeting, but she couldn't help herself. She felt her mind twist and zoom at the height, which felt particular odd for her since she wasn't usually bothered by heights. Though this was no usual situation.

Bits of the previously intact flooring had landed on and around Shay, and Dawson couldn't help but wince. She was too far away to see the extent of injuries the fall had caused, and by the way she was angled Dawson couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.

A cold rush spread through her body, draining and replacing all heat and warmth with a new numbness. Despite the sudden chill, her hands started to sweat and she could feel them starting to slip. She looked up at them, willing them to stay strong and keep a firm grip. She cringed as she tightened her hold, however still not finding them cease their sliding. She looked back down at the rubble, half burnt household objects and Shay. Her heart was beating so hard that she wouldn't be surprised if she bruised her own ribs. As much as she needed to be down there with Shay, she didn't want to go this way, even if technically it was faster.

She looked back up when she felt tight grips on her arms, pulling her up. Severide, Casey, and a few others were there, pulling her to safety, but she was barely paying any attention to faces. She just needed to see if Shay was okay.

"Are you all right?" Casey worriedly asked once they were standing on solid ground a few strides away from the now extended gaping hole. He scanned her body for injuries. "Dawson?" He questioned when she didn't answer.

"Shay—she's down there, she fell down." Dawson said, ignoring the question. She noticed Severide and the other men from Squad turn and rush away, presumably to find a way down to the floor Shay was on.

"Dawson, come on, let's get you checked out." Casey said, putting his arms gently around her shoulders to guide her out.

"I'm fine," she shrugged him off. "I just need to get to Shay."

"No, we need to get outside; the building isn't stable." Casey insisted.

"No, I need to see Shay," Dawson all but sternly shouted, turning to fully face him. After a few seconds of a stare down in her department, she shook her head and internally cursed herself for reacting the way she did, even with good reason. She usually held herself together. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he shook his head. He cautiously put his arm behind Dawson's back, guiding but not touching, her way to the smoky window. This time she obliged, knowing Casey only wanted to help. Besides, staying up there wasn't getting any closer to Shay.

They reached the ground level of the building via the fire stairs and Dawson found herself in a momentary haze when she realized she was being steered the way towards her rig, not Shay or the building. "Wait, what about Shay? I need to see if she's okay." She looked back at the complex through scattered working fire fighters and paramedics and wandering occupants.

"I'm sure she'll be fine. The other paramedics will get her. Just take care of yourself." Casey said.

"What?" Dawson breathed out, her mind compromised by the happenings of the current situation. She frowned, wondering if she knocked her head and forgot if she had sustained a serious injury or two.

"Your hands," he pointed out.

She looked down at them. She defiantly wouldn't call that a serious injury, or really an injury at all—it was just a few scrapes on her knuckles, ones she hadn't even noticed she had until now. "Nah, they're fine." She said, nervously rocking on her feet as she converted her gaze to scan each possible entrance of the building for any signs of Shay.

She saw Severide walking over, taking off his gloves and shoving them into his pocket. She stepped forward, closing the few steps between them so she could get an answer quicker. "How is she? Is she alive? Is she still in there? I should go in there—"

Severide cut her off with affirmative hands coming up in front of him. "She's alive. Pretty banged up but she should be fine. Paramedics are bringing her out now."

Dawson let out a very audible sigh of relief. Previous stress and worry lowered and her heartbeat regulated. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let her that close to the edge," she shook her head, looking down at her feet as she toed her guilt into the gravel. She shrugged as she looked back up to Severide, composing her voice and adding, "I mean, it was a big, friggin' hole—I should've seen it."

"Hey, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known she'd fall." Severide said, clapping her shoulder. It was odd for Dawson to see Severide somewhat comforting; he wasn't usually the one to do that. Shay had told her that underneath the multiple layers, there was still that caring side to him; he just didn't show it around many people. But it was still odd for Dawson to see the old Severide back.

Dawson looked up from the ground again and noticed Casey was suddenly gone and out of sight. She briefly scanned the area to see where he went, but upon scanning she spotted two paramedics wheeling Shay to an ambulance. As if she were tethered to her, she brisked her way directly over to Shay, making it just in time before they loaded her into the rig.

"I'm coming." She told them, already stepping into the back. There was no questioning from the other paramedics as she sat down inside.

Shay's usually flawless pale skin was marred with scattered bruises and lacerations, blotches of blood, and soot. There was a deep gash on the side of her forehead, which was now covered with a temporary gauze pad. A few strands of hair closest to the wound were tinted red from where they'd previously been sticking. Her uniform jacket was off, forgotten at the scene along with their medical bags and gear, making a bruised and slightly swollen wrist noticeable. An oxygen mask lay over her face and a precautionary brace was around her neck.

Dawson had just finished inserting an IV line and pumping fluids when Shay stirred back into consciousness, lightly groaning and wincing. Dawson gently placed her hand on her arm, prompting Shay to look up at her. "Hey," she said quietly in a calming tone, smiling down at her. "Do you remember what happened?"

Shay seemed to be in a slight daze until clearing her throat before she spoke, letting out a small gasp and wince at the acute pain in her chest. Her voice was muffled due to the mask as she softly said, "You were telling me another one of those stupid jokes of yours and—ugh," she brought her hand up to her side, flinching on contact, as she continued to mumble, "I mustn't have been watching where I was going and I fell through that damn hole—why am I in so much pain?" She sluggishly moved her hand from her ribs to her face in a foreseen attempt to remove the oxygen mask.

Dawson stopped her before she got the chance, putting her hand on top of Shay's and pulling it back. "Keep that on. Where are you in pain?" Dawson asked, switching back to paramedic mode. Trying to cause as little pain as possible in such situation, she started palpating Shay's ribs for possible breaks.

After a few moments of anguish Shay couldn't hold in her pain or keep her brave face on any longer, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and forget all the pain. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, pushing Dawson's hands away in hopeful effort to discontinue poking and prodding, even if it was necessary. "Ahh, stop, stop! Yes, there." She flinched, air suddenly escaping her lungs and leaving her breathless. Upon pushing her away, she noticed a throbbing in her wrist, although not as painful as her ribs, it still hurt.

"Sorry," Dawson apologized sincerely.

"A—also my wrist." Shay added once she collected her breath, lightly raising her left arm that was draped across her stomach.

Dawson gently took her arm and looked over it. Shay hissed sharply but was glad nothing looked or felt as if it were dislodged or out of place. "You've probably broken a rib or two," Dawson said, continuing to examine. "And this is most likely just a sprain. Do you remember if you landed on it?"

Shay attempted to shake her head, not remembering much after slipping, but the neck brace restricted her movements. "This really isn't necessary." She said, using her good hand to touch the brace.

Dawson placed Shay's arm back on her stomach and, again, quickly stopped any forthcoming movements to remove the brace as well, and put her arm parallel to the other. "Let me be the judge of that. Now stay still. Are you in any other pain?"

"Not—not really." She stammered, lying. She tried to concentrate on the simple task of breathing without it feeling like someone was sitting on her chest, willing for something to minimize the pain radiating front to back through her ribs with each breath and movement the rig made. If anything else was injured she was sure she couldn't feel it over that current of pain.

Dawson saw her discomfort and pushed more morphine, seeing as though Shay wasn't in a fatal, life threatening position, and having done a brief profile of her injuries, there was no need for her to be as coherent as she was, or especially in so much pain. Its effects took place relatively fast and Shay visibly relaxed. Dawson leaned over and peered through the front window to see where they were to estimate time of arrival. More time had passed than she thought since she could see the hospital entrance ahead.

They pulled up and the two paramedics that were in the front of the rig opened the back door, pulling the gurney out and setting it on ground. Dawson followed and took place pushing at the head of the stretcher. Nurses were waiting just outside the automatic doors, ready to take over, and Dawson recognized Mike among them. "Leslie Shay. Fell approximately three stories through a building. Bruising to the ribs, possible breaks. Possible internal damage, concussion, and sprained wrist," Dawson started, doctors listening intently and making mental notes. "Minor cuts and lacerations. Fluids and morphine administered en route."

Doctors said which bay they needed to go to and ordered each other to page certain doctors. Knowing it was time, Dawson reluctantly let go of the gurney. She'd just get in the way otherwise, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She stood there watching until she could no longer see them, disappearing behind a wall. Managing to peel herself away, she went to start the paperwork. Although she wouldn't say she enjoyed doing the paperwork that came with her job, it was never a huge hassle; though this time she wished that just this once she could give it a miss. Her mind was elsewhere as she completed the seemingly endless forms, and she wondered if there were suddenly more sheets added.

Dawson handed the clipboard over to the nurse at the station and headed towards the waiting room chairs. From experience, she knew it was going to be a while before she could find out more about Shay's condition—she'd probably have enough time to return to the fire station to get her things and change, and go to Shay's apartment to grab her some comfy clothes, whether she was going to have to stay a night or a week—but she worried that if she left something bad would happen, for Shay's condition to deteriorate. Although her staying wouldn't prevent such things, it made a small part of her feel relaxed, knowing she wasn't far away from her. If she could have things her own way, she'd be in that room with Shay, to be there when she woke up, to hold her hand for comfort. Hell, she'd even sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the room just to be there for her when she woke. Just because they were paramedics and were subjected to medical practices all day didn't mean it wasn't scary or nerve racking actually being a patient.

Dawson figured she'd been waiting for around an hour when she noticed familiar faces wandering over: Severide; Casey; Mills; Herrmann; Mouch; Otis; even Chief Boden was there. They were all wearing casual clothes, probably having finished their shift early to come see how Shay was. That was something she loved about her job. They weren't just work colleagues, skilled people they happened to work with every other day. Everyone was there for each other—they were a family. A big, competitive, loud-mouthed, funny and caring family.

"Any news?" Severide asked, taking a seat opposite her.

Dawson shook her head, looking up at Casey and switching her gaze from person to person as she spoke. "Not yet. No one's even come out yet."

"I'm sure someone'll come out soon," Casey said, patting her shoulder and sitting next to her. "Shay's tough. She'll get through this."

Dawson nodded but didn't reply. She didn't know why she was being so shut down. Of course it had something to do with Shay, but she still couldn't quite put a pin on what else. She kept having flashbacks of watching Shay fall, the horrified look that covered her face, and looking down passed her dangling legs at the unconscious blonde. It scared her so much that she could've lost her. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if someone close to her passed. It would be horrible, terrifying, living a life without them. Just the thought of it threatened to bring tears to her eyes.

They all sat in silence, creating déjà vu of when they were waiting to hear about Herrmann in the similar situation over a month ago, until Mike came out with a folder in hand. Dawson stood automatically. "How is she, is she okay?" She all but blurted out, knowing he knew who she was talking about without having to address him.

"She'll be okay," Mike looked down at the folder occasionally as he spoke. "Two broken ribs, mild concussion, and a sprained wrist, along with minor bruising and lacerations. We'll be keeping her in overnight for observation."

People sighed their relief's and said that it was good news and that it could've been worse.

"When can we see her?" Dawson asked.

"She's still sedated at the moment, but you can go in and see her soon."

They all nodded and thanked him before he left. Dawson let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, smiling knowing Shay was okay. Most of the men left then, also containing the knowledge that their own was going to be fine. That was usually how it was in these truly unfortunate events anyway: the whole crew waiting together, finding out if the injured was okay, in fortune cases the answer would be yes, and then the people of which that weren't as acquainted to the patient left to return home to their families or to go back to work, leaving the ones closest to them at the hospital to see said patient.

Dawson sat back down and put her hands on her knees. Casey took his place next to her right again and comfortingly put his hand atop hers, squeezing it. "Told you she was going to be okay."

Dawson let out a "Hmm," reply in a huff. That was the second time Casey had touched her within the hour and she felt nothing. She thought after all this time, this whole time she'd had a crush on him, that she'd at least feel something—a chill, goose bumps, a spark.

But there was nothing.

Maybe that was the other part she just couldn't pin down; why she wasn't paying as much or any attention to Casey lately. It hit her like an express train when she realized maybe she had feelings for a certain other person that she worked with.

But no, it was silly, ridiculous. There was no way it could be a crush. Especially not for that person. Besides, if it was, why hadn't she figured it out sooner? It was probably just irrational emotions and concern wavering around in the midst of this situation, jumbling up and telling her that she had feelings for someone else. For Leslie Shay.

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**A/N: **I hope this storyline isn't too cheesy with the whole 'brush with death and true feelings come out' scenario. But there's so much potential for Shawson it's not funny. Also I'm not a doctor or anything so keep in mind that I don't know exactly what goes on in the medical field, and the internet only says so much, so don't mind any errors or mistakes; just go with it.

Please review! I'd love to hear what people think. Or just follow or favourite—something to let me know it's liked! Also I won't be updating a few times a week or anything since life gets in the way, but just know that I won't abandon it or anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Wow! I was not expecting so much feedback, thank you all! Replies to reviews are at the bottom :)

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Chapter 2

Following the given directions, Dawson and Severide were soon standing outside of Shay's private room. Almost everyone left sometime between hearing the news and the two going up to Shay's room, so there wasn't much discussion regarding who should see her first, seeing as though they didn't want to crowd her.

Stopping and peering through the open blinds in the window, they could see she was indeed still sleeping, looking sound and peaceful, as if she were just taking a relaxing nap—despite the angry wounds. Dawson noted that she looked cleaner since she last saw her, the soot and dried blood wiped off. Four butterfly bandages closed the large laceration on the left side her forehead, and the surrounding area was a mixture of reddened skin and light bruising. A few minor cuts and grazes dusted her face: the one half an inch under the largest, one coming out from her hairline and another on the lower side of her left jaw. The monotonous hospital gown revealed a white bandage around her left wrist and an IV in her right arm.

Severide opened the door and gentlemanly gestured for Dawson to walk through. She walked in and went over to the closest side of the bed, looking down at Shay. She looked so small and fragile, and she was tempted to slip her hand into Shay's. That would be okay, right; it wouldn't be weird or anything? It would just be platonic... Dawson suddenly felt very self-conscious about her actions. She never really had been before, but after that previous thought she found herself being more observant, looking back in retrospect and wondering if maybe she did seem more... friendly around Shay.

But that was a ridiculous thought. They were just friends. Just friends.

Dawson grabbed and adjusted the plastic chair in the room so she could be closer to the bed, and sat down, gently taking Shay's hand anyway. Severide was only there for ten minutes before he left, sensing part of Dawson wanted to be left alone with Shay. Besides, he wasn't a fan of hospitals; despite his regular drop ins during his line of work, and seeing Shay was enough to put his mind at ease. "I'll leave you alone with her," he'd said, clapping Dawson's shoulder a couple of times. "Doctors said she can leave tomorrow if everything's okay. Do you want me to give her a ride home or do you?"

"I can do it," Dawson had said. "I'll probably end up staying the night anyway."

And she did. Inevitable exhaustion settled in and eventually took over, and Dawson fell asleep in the chair she was occupying. However hard she had promised herself she wouldn't, she couldn't help but close her heavy eyes, telling herself that she was just resting them for a minute. Famous last words.

—

After the initial blurriness of waking up passed, Shay lethargically looked around and recognized the unmistakable sight of a hospital, if her gradually increasing identification to the steady beeping of a heart monitor, and the off-putting, so called "sterile" smell didn't give it away. Upon looking around she saw Dawson to her right, still in uniform and sleeping in a chair with her legs dangling over an armrest and torso and head curled into the backrest. It looked wildly uncomfortable and surprisingly cute.

She reached her hand out to touch her, sending a spasm of pain radiating through to her ribs. She hissed sharply and retracted, bringing her arm back to its previous residency by her side. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass. Once it settled to a somewhat tolerable degree, she opened her eyes again and looked down at herself. Noticing a bandage her on wrist, her first instinct was to touch it. She was glad the sudden movement didn't cause all too much pain like before, but as she caressed her wrist a new pang arose there. She stopped before she caused herself any more discomfort, and her mind diverted surprisingly fast to her current dull, lingering headache. Now that she thought about it, she felt something of a minute weight sticking against her forehead. She knew better than to reach up and touch it, for if it hurt to reach out horizontally it would more than likely hurt more reaching vertically.

Pushing through the thick haze, she briefly remembered the possible injuries Dawson told the doctors as she was being wheeled in: broken ribs, sprained wrist, internal damage, and concussion. She figured she had all of them, although wasn't sure about the internal damage. She tried to set aside her wonder but it soon bunched up, nagging her for knowledge.

She looked at the clock above the door and squinted through the distance and dullness. It read 2:38, and judging by the darkness, the surprising quietness of nurses in the halls, and the fact that when she was brought in it was daylight, Shay figured it was night. She wondered if waking Dawson up at that time would be selfish. But it wasn't like it was for a bad cause.

"Dawson," Shay said, coming out quieter than expected. Knowing not to clear her throat again by coughing, she licked her lips, as if that would magically make her voice louder. "Dawson."

Although not much more vocal, it did the trick and Dawson stirred, sluggishly looking around before quickly landing her gaze on Shay. A smile consumed her face and she swung her legs over the armrest to better face her, reaching her hand out to touch her arm. "Hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"A little tender," she replied. "It's almost three, what are you doing here?" She asked softly. She felt as if she must've been on some kind of medication that caused drowsiness since she was already feeling drained of energy. Since when was lying down such a hard task?

"I didn't want to leave you alone," Dawson said truthfully. "And I figured you'd want a familiar face to wake up to."

Shay smiled in response.

"Speaking of which, I should probably go let someone know that you're awake."

"You should probably go home, Dawson." Shay said as Dawson stood, mimicking Dawson's previous sentence.

Dawson frowned. "You—you don't want me here?"

Shay was quick to answer, much to her body's dismay as she inched to sit up. "No! No, of course I do. It's just, I'm really tired and you look exhausted as well. Go home and sleep."

"No, it's okay. I'm not tired. I'll just stay here. The doctors said you can leave tomorrow—well, later today. I'll keep you company in the meantime."

"You don't have to do that." Shay said, shaking her head slightly, not wanting to burden her.

Dawson put her hand on Shay's arm again, warmth spreading on touch through Shay's arm and sending a small tingling sensation down to her fingertips. "I want to." Dawson said. "Now I'll be right back."

As Dawson pulled away and walked out, Shay felt a longing for her touch. It was comforting, calming. It made her feel grounded and forget about the dull, lingering pain. It was no secret to herself that she wished she could be more than just friends with Dawson. But by telling Dawson how she felt would and could possibly ruin their friendship, and she really didn't want to compromise that. Besides, Dawson was straight, and she'd seen the way she looked at Casey. Stored away in an ever locked vault in the back of her head, she wished that Dawson would look at her like that some day.

Dawson was back within a minute followed by a nurse. After the nurse introducing herself, she asked her the basic questions like if she knew what happened, if she was in any pain, and then she ran down the injuries she had sustained. Although understanding it all, it didn't quite stick in Shay's head, going in one ear and out the other. She blamed exhaustion for that. And maybe a bit of Dawson as well—her hair out of its constraints and flowing around her effortlessly beautiful face was becoming somewhat of a distraction.

"You really don't need to stay," Shay said once they were alone again. "I'm fine."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dawson replied. "You know, I really am feeling like you don't want me here." She said truthfully, although trying to come off as a casual, observational joke.

"I do, I'd like it if you'd stay. But you should go home. Sleep. Your bed's gotta be better than that chair." Shay stated.

Dawson seemed to be fighting her internal hesitancy and didn't reply for a good minute or two. "Okay, I'll compromise. I'll go home and get changed, and then stop by your place and get you some clothes for later, and then come back. Deal?"

"Deal." Shay agreed, thinking that it was better than nothing. Anyway, she knew Dawson, and she hoped that when she saw her bed, sitting there in all its glory, she'd cave in to her impulses and sleep there the rest of the night. That way, Shay might actually have more of a chance of sleeping, what Dawson being somewhat of a distraction and all. She also put her blame on the drugs for that. She could usually control her feelings and push them back into that vault they'd managed to so deviously escape from.

Dawson got up from the chair and grazed her fingertips over Shay's forearm. She couldn't help herself. "All right. I'll be back soon." She said, and started to walk towards the door. "Don't die on me." She added, turning to point at Shay, hoping to elicit some happiness or entertainment to the not so fortunate situation.

Shay chuckled in response, careful not to do so too hard for fear of returning the pain that had just started to fade. She watched as Dawson walked out, slowing at the window almost to the point of stopping to look through before continuing down the hall. It didn't take long for Shay's mind to clear of thoughts and fall into a fitful sleep.

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**EviganLover87 – Thank you! And it's funny because someone else recently also told me I'd make a good nurse.**

**jh126 – That's okay. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion. I think I actually take it as a compliment anyway because that means I did a somewhat believable job at making Dawson sound like "something she's not."**

**miss-isabelle – Exactly! You never know! :)**

**Babygurl1982 – I am!**

**Tomari – Thank you so much! I didn't want to favourite reviews or anything, but I have to say that what you said is one of the best reviews I've had, so thank you again! :D**

**RaneJizzoli – I know right. Tumblr's not just wasting our time like everyone in real life seems to say hahah!**

**Sukerpunch94 – I will be, don't worry!**

**Jquackers – Okay, I'm glad! And I'll be doing both those things, so.**

**SkySwimmer17 – Well now you don't have to wait haha!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After taking a quick shower to wash the soot and sweat off from the busy day, Dawson got changed into casual wear, putting on whatever she grabbed first. Doing so, she couldn't help but notice how welcoming her bed looked—the fluffy pillows... warm duvet... blissful mattress... Her body ached from a mixture of stress, the long day, and that highly uncomfortable chair at the hospital. She sat down on her bed as she put a pair of socks on. She told herself that was all she'd do: sit down. And maybe let herself fall backwards to rest her back for a moment.

But that was as far as she'd go. She had to get Shay's clothes and go back to the hospital.

The pre-programmed, automated alarm blaring in her ears forced her arm to mechanically dart out to the side to stop the beeping. When the alarm had all of a sudden disappeared from its usual spot less than an arm's length away, she opened her eyes, early morning light seeping in through the half closed curtains. Shooting up straight, she immediately realized she'd fallen asleep. The only thing that stopped her from hitting herself was that irritating, still beeping alarm. Slamming her hand down on the sleep button and nearly sending it to the floor, she was quick to get up, grabbing her jacket from the end of the bed and rushing out of her place. She scolded herself so much for falling asleep when she pretty much told Shay she'd be less than an hour. Turns out it was more like four hours.

It was only when she reached the parking lot that she realized during her chaotic rush to get back and apologize for falling asleep and therefore taking so long, that she forgot to stop by Shay's apartment to grab a pair of clothes. That, of course, meant Shay would have to wear the clothes she came in with or another version of the unflattering hospital attire: a pair of nurse scrubs, perhaps. Just another thing to add to her self-scolding list.

Already knowing the way up to Shay's room made it an easier task than last time, the latter seeming like they were walking through endless corridors and wings. She wasn't paying all that much attention to the people around her as she walked through the hospital, which was why, if she had been, could've avoided quite literally bumping into someone coming out of a room. An explosion of papers fell to the ground upon collision, and Dawson bent down to help the stranger gather the work, apologizing. Previously unaware, she looking up to see it was Mike. Just her luck.

"Oh, hey, Gabriela! Long time no see." He said, standing up with the messy stack of papers.

"Mike, hey. Yeah." She replied, not mentioning that they actually saw each other the previous day, so it was hardly a long time. "Um," she turned her head to glance at the hall behind her. Only two corridors and a few turns away. But she didn't want to be rude and simply walk off on someone. "How are you?" She asked.

Mike smiled. "I'm good. Thanks for asking. And you?"

"Ah, I'm all right." Dawson replied. She looked down the hall again. "I'm sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry." As Dawson was about to continue her way to Shay, Mike spoke up again, prompting Dawson to stop and turn around. "Listen... Are you doing anything tomorrow night? Wanna maybe go out for a drink or something?"

Dawson knew he was going to ask something like that sooner or later. She just hoped she could hurry away from him before he got the chance to. "Oh... That's kind of you to offer, but my partner, Shay—" At that rather inappropriate time, saying the word 'partner' made Dawson briefly wonder what it would be like to say she had a girlfriend, rather than boyfriend. "—Well, I wanted to be there for her in case she needs anything, you know? After what happened yesterday."

Lost hope was in Mike's eyes as he was turned down. "Sure. Of course. Maybe some other time, huh?"

Dawson nodded. "Sure." It wasn't like she was just going to say no and crush the poor man's heart, even though that was her answer. Sure, he was a nice guy, a distant friend even, but it would never go beyond that.

She turned and retreated before any other offers could arise. When Dawson got to Shay's room, she found Shay was awake, sitting up at a more angular position in the previously reclined bed. Almost the second upon stepping through the door, Dawson was apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Leslie. I fell asleep and I didn't mean to and then I woke up and saw the time and realized I'd fallen asleep, and then I came straight over and I completely forgot to go to your apartment to get your clothes." Dawson rambled, conveying her point with aimless wavering hand gestures.

"This is ironic since I'm the one in hospital, but you need to calm down," Shay said. "It's okay, really. There's no need to apologize. Besides, there was a cute nurse who kept me company."

Dawson shot a questioning, sceptical look at Shay, tilting her head ever so slightly at the attempted humor.

"Okay, so she wasn't that cute." Shay added, lightly shrugging a shoulder.

Ignoring the change of subject from her apology, Dawson repeated, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Shay returned.

"No, but I said I'd be back real soon and I wasn't."

"If I could get up right now, I'd come over there and kick your ass for saying 'sorry' again." Shay joked.

"But I didn't say... _it_," Dawson defended quietly, mindlessly fiddling with the plastic of the bed's end. "I'm sorry—I'm _not_ sorry—I'm... " She stumbled, trying to correct herself but ultimately giving up and leaving the sentence hang. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was just hit by a bus. Sore." Shay replied. "Just don't ask me to get up or move and I'll be just fine."

Dawson chuckled sympathetically before saying, "Well you're good for another few hours before you can go."

"Good. One can only take so much nurses gossip."

Moving from the foot of the bed, Dawson sat down on the chair. They chatted about nothing in particular for the following few hours, allowing the occasional breaks between subjects, interruptions, and pain stricken means.

Soon enough a doctor entered and checked Shay's chart and vitals, asking how she felt. Concluding she was fit to leave, the doctor left the pair to retrieve and fill out discharge forms while Shay got changed. Thanks to Dawson's panicked rush, the crumpled plastic bag sitting in the corner of the room held the clothes Shay was going to have to wear.

Dawson stood beside Shay's bed, wondering if maybe she should turn around or wait out in the hall while she changed. "Do you, um, do you want me to stay and help or...?" She asked, suddenly aware that she was looking everywhere except Shay.

Shay chuckled lightly, tempted to joke about her seeming immature at the thought of helping dress someone, but noticing there was a streak of nervousness lingering around Dawson, she refrained. "I guess I could use the help." She said. "I mean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, so you don't have to. I'm sure I can manage on my own." Coming towards the end of speaking, she eased herself upright, hissing at the pain and highly wishing she was under the influence of the magical drugs that made her not care all that much about the discomfort.

Dawson was assisting her within seconds, seeing the pained expression on Shay's face. "Okay, no, I'm staying. You're gonna need help if you can't even sit up on your own—no offense."

"None taken," Shay replied, pushing the sheets off and slowly moving to swing her legs over the side of the bed. She let out a breathy chuckle before adding, "To tell you the truth, I can't even get out of bed on my own to go to the bathroom."

Dawson smiled sympathetically and waited until Shay was stationary before ducking over to grab the plastic bag. "So I was thinking..." Dawson started, trying to distract herself from the upcoming task. She tipped the bag's contents onto the bed next to Shay, the ever so faint smell of smoke starting to waft up from being confined, eliciting another surge of guilt for Dawson. "You're probably going to need help with stuff when you get home, and it would be easier if you had someone around to do things for you, so do maybe want me to stay with you tonight?" She asked, looking down at the clothes. "At your place." She added, not sure if she needed to clarify. Of course she'd have Severide, but Dawson vaguely remembered overhearing him say something about still having to work a night shift.

"So you'd kind of be like my own personal slave, huh?" Shay said.

Dawson smiled and shrugged. "You could call it that."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to burden you or anything."

"No, don't be stupid; you'd never burden me." Dawson reached over and put her hand on Shay's arm, further causing herself to feel self-conscious about her actions after a few moments passing of realization of what she'd just done. She cleared her throat, removed her hand, and changed the subject. "So let's get you dressed, huh?"

Picking up the pants, Dawson gave them a shake to rid of any leftover debris or soot, and lowered herself down to bring them to Shay's feet. Shay slid each leg into its place and Dawson pulled up until she reached just above the knee, stopping at the edge of the hospital gown. "Think you can manage the rest of the way?" She asked, coming out quieter than expected.

Shay silently nodded and grabbed her pants. She pulled them on as much as she could while sitting, and then eased herself onto the floor, bringing them up the rest of the way. She swayed slightly when a small wave of dizziness washed over her. Dawson quickly had her hands on Shay's waist, steadying her.

"You okay?" Dawson asked, concerned coating her voice.

"Yeah," Shay breathed out lowly, a little too focused on where Dawson's hands were to conjure up more than a mere one syllable answer.

After making sure she wasn't going to fall over, Dawson slowly removed her hands. She bent down to retrieve the quickly discarded t-shirt she dropped seconds before. When she stood again, she looked up and realized she was closer to Shay than expected. Their faces were just inches away, close enough to kiss if so desired. Their breaths mingled, warm on one another's face. Dawson looked up into Shay's gray eyes. It was hard to look away from the returning gaze, and even with actual current flaws on her face, Shay still managed to pull off flawless. Dawson hastily managed to scrape her eyes away from the blonde, looking down at the ground between them and taking a small step to the side.

Rounding the bed, Dawson walked behind Shay, who had now sat back down on the bed, and started to untie the strings holding the hospital gown together. Shay held the gown to her chest so as to not expose herself, while the back parted effortlessly, revealing the edges of particularly aggressive purple and green and yellow bruising. Dawson unconsciously leaned forward, wincing on Shay's behalf, and gingerly grazed her fingers close to the edge of one of the bruises on Shay's left side.

Shay's muscles tensed under Dawson's ghosting fingertips, not expecting the sudden touch, but she didn't pull away. She closed her eyes, part of her hoping she wouldn't go further towards the more tender areas, but the other, more prominent part also enjoying the given contact. Much to her dismay, Dawson eased back, taking her hand with her.

"It's all my fault." Dawson said quietly. No matter how much she said it, it still didn't make her feel any better.

"I _really_ wish you'd stop saying that," Shay sighed. "None of this is your fault, Gabby. That hole was in obvious view. I was just too careless to watch where I was walking. So please, _please_ stop blaming yourself."

"I'm sorry. It's just..." Dawson trailed off. Continuing in a lower, more vulnerable and sensitive voice, she said, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

At those words, a tiny bit of Shay melted. She crinkled her forehead the way you would when you saw a cute puppy trying with all its heart to get up a step, only to fall back down again. "Hey," Shay hushed, wishing she could turn around to grab Dawson's hand. "I'm not going anywhere. You're not gonna get rid of me that easily."

A small smile crept across Dawson's face. If part of that sentiment was meant to serve as a mood lightener, it worked.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm kind of starting to get cold." Shay said.

"Oh. Right."

Before Dawson got the chance to assist in dressing the top half of Shay, Shay said, "I don't think my ribs are going to agree with my shirt."

Looking at the t-shirt in her hands, Dawson realized it was most likely going to be a struggle putting on the firm fitting garment, even with the assistance. Scanning around, Dawson looked down at herself. "Oh," she quickly shrugged off her dark brown jacket, discarding the CFD shirt on the bed. "Here."

"No, I can't take that. You'll get cold."

"Says the woman who's cold right now," Dawson stated. "Just put it on."

Shay complied and held an arm out, allowing Dawson to slide a sleeve over. When both arms were in, Shay let go of the hospital gown and zipped the jacket up most of the way, covering the intended appendage and some.

As if on cue, the doctor returned with the completed discharge papers and a wheelchair. Reluctantly, Shay allowed herself to be seated in the wheelchair. It made her feel incompetent—although she supposed technically she was a bit—but knowing they always offered and insisted on such services, and Dawson also insisting on saving her the walk to the exit, she kind of felt obligated to.

When they reached Shay's apartment, Dawson used the spare key she was given and opened the door, gesturing for Shay to walk in first. While Shay made a beeline for the couch, Dawson made herself quite at home, heading for the kitchen and, not knowing where else to put it in the meantime, placed the plastic bag containing Shay's unworn clothing on the counter.

"Do you want some ice for your ribs?" Dawson asked.

"The bottle of pills would be better," Shay replied in a strained voice as she gingerly eased herself down. "Sure." She added, and tried to make herself comfy considering she wasn't planning on moving any time in the near future. In fact, she was highly contemplating taking up permanent residency on that very sofa.

Dawson grabbed a dish towel, a pack of frozen peas, a glass of water, and the bottle of pain killers Shay was given, and went over to the couch. She set everything down on the coffee table and sat down next to Shay, getting the right amount of tablets out. "These are for you," she said, prompting Shay to hold her hand out to collect them.

"Thank you," Shay replied, eagerly swallowing them with a mouthful of water to rid the almost constant throbbing in her ribs and head.

Dawson wrapped the peas in the dish towel and gently moved Shay's arm away, deciding to start with her left side since it was the closest. Blindly surveying the area, Dawson placed it against Shay.

"_Shit!_" Shay gasped, expecting the coldness but not the severity. Had those peas been in the freezer for years on end, forgotten right at the very back, or did they just come from the center of Antarctica itself? It certainly did not feel like there were two layers of fabric between skin and packaging. But maybe it was just the combination of the frozen iceblock, pain, and manageable pressure against her skin causing her to think that, and she was just exaggerating. Though, if she was to exaggerate, she'd say it felt like she was wearing a bikini in the middle of winter while making snow angels in the midst of a blizzard.

"Does that feel any better?" Dawson asked, looking up at Shay.

Gritting her teeth, Shay spat out, "I don't know, I can't feel anything but the friggin' North Pole on my ribs!"

"Well, that's a good thing then." Dawson chimed.

"Goo—How is that good?"

"Do you feel any pain?"

Shay opened her mouth to reply but opted to close it again, quickly assessing the quite noticeable freezing and somewhat burning but numbing sensation the peas brought. "No," a small smile crept across her face. "Well, I mean, yes, but not as much. Ask me again in five minutes."

"Good," Dawson smiled. "Hold this here. Do you want me to whip up something for lunch? I can make you my famous arroz con pollo picante." Dawson offered. "Or grilled cheese—you know, if you feel like keeping it simple."

Shay had to admit, the way arroz con pollo picante rolled from Dawson's mouth was rather alluring, but the gourmet sounding meal didn't exactly seem like the thing she and Severide would just happen to have the needed ingredients lying around in their kitchen for. "I don't mind. Make whatever you like with what you find."

"All right." Dawson replied, not expecting to see as little as she did when she got up and opened the fridge. Among a couple of plates of mostly devoured leftovers, there was a nearly empty bottle of milk, one egg in a carton, a couple of yogurt cartons, a tub of butter, and a quarter of a block of cheese. "Wow," Dawson said, lifting her eyebrows and shutting the fridge. "Looks like someone is in desperate need of shopping."

Shay scoffed. "Yeah, it's Kelly's turn to get groceries. He was meant to go like five days ago. I'm surprised there's even anything still in there."

Dawson moved to the pantry and spotted half a loaf of bread. "Well, looks like it's either grilled cheese or toast," she said as she grabbed the bread. "Take your pick."

"Surprise me."

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, I'm seriously astonished by the amount of follows this has after only _two_ chapters! Thank you :D

I'm sorry for the ending of this chapter; I'm sure you would've expected a little more to round it off (as did I, but my creative juices just weren't really flowing). Also I don't mean to make Severide sound bad or like he's not there for Shay, because we all know that he is. I just wanted to make more time for Shay and Dawson, you know. So don't think I'm hating on him or anything because he's kind of being pushed out of the way so far. He'll have a little more time later in upcoming chapters, so don't worry.

—

**SkySwimmer17** – Thank you! Well, as you can see, she didn't really, but she will be making her meals in upcoming chapters. And I know! I would've loved to see Shay's reaction. Also am I the only one that noticed that in the episode after that (1x12), Shay was magically healed, when it had literally only been overnight?

**peso4niyzamok** – Thank you so much! ...And what's my writing style?!

**freckles1408** – Yay! I'm glad!

**Dixiewinxwrites12** – :)

**srhittson** – Thank you :)

**debssofs** – Isn't there just?! Though there's kind of a handful of characters getting in the way now opposed to the start, but shh, Shay and Dawson are actually in love okay.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Shay and Dawson were left with collecting the discarded waste of various medical supplies like bloody gauzes and wrappers after they handed the patient off to another set of paramedics. A sudden heat coming from under them interrupted Shay's listening towards Dawson._

_"Do you feel that?" Shay asked, looking around at the ground she was kneeling on._

_"Feel what?" Dawson asked, seemingly oblivious to the warmth radiating from below._

_"That," Shay gestured to the ground. "That heat."_

_Dawson looked at the ground, frowning. "I don't feel anything."_

_Shay furrowed her brows. "Are you sure they put that fire out?"_

_"We wouldn't be up here if they didn't."_

_Good point_,_ Shay thought. She tried to ignore the heat, thinking it was just her, but it soon became a harder task than disposing of waste. She stood up, walking to the edge of the fairly large and rather jagged hole in the floor that she could only assume to be from an explosion relating to the original fire. Looking down, she was taken completely aback when she saw the flickering orange flames of fire. The same fire that was supposed to be out before they entered the building._

_Suddenly, Shay lost her balance, possibly from leaning over the edge too far. She wasn't sure what happened, but all she knew was that she was falling, and that she was falling fast. She didn't even get the chance to distribute her weight evenly to balance herself away from the edge, or to grab a hold of something on her way down. There was a muffled cry of her name from above, quickly followed by hard, solid flooring slamming into her, winding her chronically. If the heat didn't get to her, blinding all her senses, she probably would have noticed the deafening throbbing in her head and the feeling of a ton pressing on her chest with vengeance._

_The heat felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before, licking every inch of her skin and some. It was beyond bearable, beyond agonizing. She screamed but nothing came out. She could hardly breathe, the flames feeling like they carried on down her throat and into her chest, creating a furnace that desperately needed to be vented. Acrid smoke billowed through her lungs, and she screamed again but still nothing came out._

Shay's eyes flew open and she shot up in a cold sweat, causing an excruciating ripple of pain and nausea to shoot up her sides and course through her head. She was panting, breathing in all the uncompromised air now that it was available; not helping the fact that doing so was continuing to hurt her more. She looked around and it quickly registered that it was just a dream. A twisted, terrifying version of what had happened two days ago. She hadn't realized she'd screamed until her door swung open seconds later, an extremely concerned and anxious Dawson flying through.

"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" Dawson blurted, looking Shay over and trying to find a place to put her hands as she bent down to her level.

Shay didn't know what question to answer first, still overwhelmed by the dream and pain.

Dawson quickly grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and placed it upright behind Shay against the bed, seeing Shay's contorted face as she awkwardly clutched her ribcage. "Here. Just sit back and breathe, nice and easy." She said in a hushed tone as she placed her hand on Shay's shoulders, encouraging her to ease back. "What happened?" She tried again after Shay was leaning against the pillow.

Shay was mindlessly looking down at her bedding, mainly to concentrate on her breathing as Dawson had said, so Dawson placed her fingers under Shay's chin and lifted her head. Shay finally looked Dawson in the eyes, and after a couple of seconds said, "I had a really bad dream."

The way Shay said it made Dawson want to just hug her, to wrap her up in her pocket and never let her go. She sounded like a small, innocent child after having a nightmare and telling their parents so. Dawson sat on the edge of the bed and gave Shay a sympathetic look while placing a comforting hand on her leg. "I know, sweetie, but that's all it was. A dream. You're safe." Dawson almost had to physically stop herself from pushing a lock of hair behind Shay's ear, although right now Shay probably wouldn't have even given it two thoughts, including the positioning of Dawson's hand and the pet name that just slipped out. "Do you wanna tell me about it?" Dawson asked.

Shay shrugged and looked away. "I don't—there's nothing really much to tell. It was just about the accident but there was a fire there and..." She trailed off. "Can you... I mean, do you mind if you stay? Will you stay here with me tonight?" She asked quietly, looking back at Dawson with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah," Dawson nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you."

Dawson helped Shay back so she was lying down and then rounded the bed with the pillow, plopping herself down next to Shay on her side on top of the covers. After a couple of minutes, Dawson spoke in a low tone, careful not to wake Shay if she'd fallen asleep overly fast. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Okay." Shay replied.

"You remember that call we got a few months back, the one with the guy who got shot in the abdomen, and the other guy who got shot in head and came out of the closet with that gun?" Dawson started, not really portraying it as a question but more as a reminder. "I was so scared. Scared out of my mind. For days afterwards I kept having the same nightmare, over and over again. I dreamt that he pulled the trigger, that he shot both of us. The dreams faded after a while but I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that that actually could've happened. I mean, what if I hadn't got him to drop the gun, or the cops showed up a minute too late?"

"Is this your idea of a bedtime story?" Shay interrupted. "Because it's not really working."

Dawson chuckled. "No. No, I'm just saying that it would've helped if I had someone there when I woke up. So if you have another nightmare, I'll be here. And if you have another one, I'll still be here. Even if you don't feel like talking about it but just want the company, I'll be here."

Despite everything, Shay felt her stomach go all warm and fuzzy. She didn't know how she was so lucky to end up being friends with this amazing woman, and she also did not know how to respond to that. A simple 'Thank you,' just wouldn't cut it. She looked over to Dawson and smiled, even if she wouldn't be able to see it through the partial darkness. She patted around the bed next to her with the back of her hand until she felt Dawson's arm. She slipped her hand underneath to avoid having to exert herself, and then squeezed it gently, thanking her regardless.

"Why was that a secret?" Shay asked after few of moments.

"Because I didn't want people thinking I was any less than who they know me as. I know it sounds silly, but... I don't know, I guess I just didn't want people knowing that sort of stuff got to me, you know? I mean, I grew up around a couple of neighborhoods like that so you'd think it wouldn't bother me to the point of nightmares, right? I guess it does, huh?"

"Mm," Shay hummed.

Dawson inched up and looked at Shay, squinting through the dullness and seeing that she had her eyes closed. Shay must've been pretty tired if she was already falling asleep. Either that or she felt she needed to sleep to avoid listening to Dawson babble on, trying to distract Shay from her nightmare. But knowing that probably was not the case, and figuring it might help, Dawson decided to continue talking. It didn't matter if Shay was taking meticulous, thorough notes or not even listening, and it didn't matter what she chose to talk about. If it helped Shay sleep, then she was fine with talking.

—

Dawson wasn't even sure if she fell asleep or not. It was one of those times when you close your eyes and it's dark, then you open them two seconds later and it's light. She was confused when the first sight she saw wasn't her own bedroom, but upon looking around the surroundings and seeing the familiarity of Shay and her room, Dawson quickly relaxed again. She saw that Shay was still asleep and hadn't moved all of an inch, still in the same position with one arm casually bent at the elbow, her hand within a foot of her head. Only, one thing that had moved was Dawson's arm on top of her hand. She wasn't even sure Shay realized she'd left her hand there sometime between thanking her and falling asleep. Part of her was tempted to put her arm back and pretend to be asleep when Shay woke up.

But her stomach called—literally—and considering the food situation there wasn't going to be anything worthwhile eating for breakfast, or any other meal for that matter. She felt bad considering going grocery shopping at this hour, but if she was going to be staying there and visiting frequently she at least wanted to be able to cook. Besides, she mentioned to Shay the previous day that she was going to go out and get some food, so it wasn't like it was spontaneous.

She slowly rolled over and lifted herself off the bed, trying not to move the mattress and disturb the sleeping blonde. She looked at the alarm and saw it had only been a couple of hours since they were awake, so she figured just another five or ten minutes to let Shay sleep before waking her up wouldn't hurt.

She readied herself and made a brief list of groceries she needed and then went back upstairs to Shay's room when she was done. Shay was still unchanged. Dawson really didn't want to have to wake her. She always felt guilty waking people up from their slumbers, and especially Shay at that. After that nightmare she wasn't sure Shay would go back to sleep, but yet there she was, sleeping.

Sighing, she went over to the bed and tapped Shay's shoulder. "Shay," she said softly, not quite sure why she was being quiet when she was intending to wake her. "Shay, time to wake up."

An incoherent, somewhat irritated moan escaped Shay's lips as her eyebrows curled together and she pealed her eyes open. "What? Why?"

"I'm gonna go get food to fill the fridge, remember? To show that people are actually living here. And you have to be woken up every couple of hours, and Severide won't be here for another few, so you gotta get up. Come on."

"Can't you go later? It's comfy here." Shay protested. She only lied a little. Sure, it was comfy, but she didn't even want to attempt sitting up—or moving any limb, muscle, or finger for that matter. If aggravating her ribs earlier that morning didn't help before, it sure as hell didn't now. She'd heard that getting up in the morning was one of the most painful things about broken ribs, and shit were they right.

"Well I can but I was planning on making you my fabulous omelets for breakfast." Dawson stated.

"Well..." Shay said, pushing away the sleep and scanning her brain for a quick and easy solution without having to say she needed assistance in getting up. Dawson had already done more than she could thank her for. "Well why don't you just pass me my phone and then call me if you're not back in a couple of hours and make sure I'm awake. Kelly should be back soon, anyway."

Severide had left a message on Shay's phone the previous day, saying that he was extremely sorry that he had to work and that he wouldn't be there when Shay got back, but he finished his shift in the morning so he'd see her then.

Dawson sighed, not all that happy with the suggestion but knowing she wouldn't be able to persuade her otherwise. Shay's stubbornness had already proven itself at the hospital. "Fine." She picked up Shay's phone and put it on the edge of the bedside table. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? I can just go later if you want—"

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying so much." Shay said.

"Okay," Dawson sounded unsure. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon."

When Shay heard the door shut downstairs she finally let out a throaty painful groan, letting her discomfort out. She didn't want Dawson to see her hurting before. Looking over at the bottle of pain killers on the desk across the room, Shay cursed herself for not asking Dawson to pass them before she left. Ever so slowly and carefully, Shay attempted to sit up. The task proved harder than she thought, and after only a few moments she gave up, collapsing in a heap against her bed.

—

Dawson waited for the elderly lady in front to stop talking to the cashier about her grandson's glorious wedding while she fumbled through her purse to pay. She picked up a random magazine on the stand and flipped through it, trying to pass time. Nearing the end, there was a full page advertisement for a lingerie company. She stopped flicking the pages and looked at the picture, at the attractive brunette posing in front of a simple light gray backdrop, wearing an elegant black and purple pair of underwear. She looked at the woman's face, obvious that Photoshop took some part in making her look the way she did. No one's skin was that flawless. She diverted her gaze lower, searching to see if she felt any kind of attraction. Sure, she was gorgeous and had a figure to die for, but Dawson didn't feel anything else. She didn't feel attracted or aroused or anything.

Dawson found this becoming quite a problem, not knowing how she felt. She really had no clue as to how to figure it out, let alone where to start. She kept second guessing herself, thinking the feelings she had for Shay were stupid and embarrassing one moment, then genuine and real the next. All her relationships and sexual encounters in the past had been with men, and she'd never thought of a woman that way. Until two days ago when she realized how much Shay meant to her.

A sudden voice over the loudspeaker flowing through the grocery store made Dawson's eyes snap back up, realizing where she was and the image she had been staring at in the magazine for the past few minutes. She cleared her mind and closed the magazine, putting it back in place on the rack. While continuing to patiently wait for the elderly lady to openly recall the events of a certain part of the wedding, Dawson was very much regretting her aisle choice.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the wait between updates. Life just gets in the way—how rude! I may or may not be trying to bribe you, but the more reviews I get, the more my writing spark increases, and therefore the faster the updates ;)

**Dixiewinxwrites12** – Thank you :) I'm glad you like it!

**peso4niyzamok** – No, don't worry, I won't forget about you! Like I said in the first chapter, I won't abandon the fic. I may get a little behind in updating, but there'll always be a chapter around the corner.

**Srhittson** – Thank you :)

**SkySwimmer17** – Hahah, exactly. I know, such an inconvenience it was. And thank you :)

**Sbedrocks** – Oh good, I'm glad it's evened out. Yeah, they won't be rushing to bed, that's for sure. These things take time. And as this is a Shawson fic, I probably won't have much of Severide's 'addiction' in there. Seems like the show's kind of doing that as well and hasn't shown much of that side.

**twosocks75** – Thank you! I'm glad you like it. And yeah, the show's a bit addictive, huh?

**Swagatron** – Thank you!

**Wordsaremyescape** – I'm sorry! I hope this ending is better hahah. And thank you :)

**guest** – thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Severide knocked on Shay's door lightly, waiting a couple of seconds for a response before opening the door. A smile consumed his face. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"All right," Shay returned the smile.

"Mind if I come in?" Severide asked, walking in anyway.

"Sure," Shay said. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Dawson wanted me to make sure you didn't fall asleep or anything. She even left a note on the bench for you, telling you not to fall asleep before I got back."

Shay wasn't going to lie, she did doze off a couple of times, but it never lasted more than a few minutes, the irritation from trying to sit up multiple times still lingering around. She wasn't able to conjure up the willpower to just sit up and endure the agonizing stabbing, to get it over with. A distraction would be a good technique for some relief. "Well, I'm fine. And Dawson needs to stop worrying."

Severide chuckled. "Can I get you anything? Food? Glass of water?"

"How come you're not this nice to me usually?" Shay teased.

"Do you want something to eat or not?" Severide said, avoiding the partially rhetorical question.

"No thanks." Shay replied. "Although," she added, raising her voice slightly as if to catch his attention. "I, uh... Can I maybe get your advice?"

"You know, I'm not really the guy you should be asking, but yeah, sure." He made himself comfortable and settled next to Shay on her bed, lying down and resting his head on his hand. "Shoot."

"There's this girl..." Shay eventually started, regret already beginning to rise from having asked advice in the first place, for fear of having to reveal the identity of who she was talking about. "I don't even know why I'm bothering to tell you; you're just gonna say to get her drunk and make out with her." Shay said, trying to add some humor into the sadly somewhat true statement.

"Hey, I'm all ears," Severide said, adding, "Although I'll probably still say that anyway. Nothing wrong with a bit of drunken action."

Shay flopped her arm over, effectively slapping Severide's chest. "I'm trying to be serious here, okay?"

"I'm sorry. Go ahead."

"Anyway," Shay sighed. "So I don't know what to do. We've been friends forever, but I don't want to ruin anything, you know? What we have now is great and I don't want to make it weird or strained at the least by saying something. I'm not even sure she feels the same way, or even if she likes women.

"I mean, it's a little scary. 'Cause I don't just want a one night stand or anything, which is kind of my thing—no fuss, no worry. No serious commitments. But I think I might actually be ready for one," she explained. "But I don't know; I haven't really had one since, you know, Clarice. But just because that didn't work out so well doesn't mean anything, right? Things might work out. I could finally get my fairytale ending. Just, minus legal marriage and rights and equality, of course." Shay joked. "So, like, do I take a plunge and just say something, or should I wait?"

"Wait for what, though?" Severide asked, conveying a good point. What would Shay be waiting for? For the right time? For Dawson to magically come out and say she thought Shay was amazing since the first day they'd met, that she was the most beautiful person she'd seen, that there were feelings towards her that had been lingering around, almost bursting at the seams, waiting for the right time to emerge?

That was a stupid thought though, Shay dwindled, because Dawson would never feel that way. Besides, what were the chances of them liking each other at the same time? That was one thing Shay never understood in movies and books,—and the very odd chance in real life—that two people happened to share romantic feelings towards each other at the same time. It was totally impractical, almost impossible.

But, there was still a small, small chance hiding within the cracks of that 'almost impossible'. And maybe just enough to miraculously hold Dawson's unlikely feelings.

"Yeah..." Shay pondered. She almost slipping out the fact that they had to work together, which would ultimately mean giving away the identity of Dawson. And if Severide hadn't picked up on that detail already, Shay wondered just how long it would take for him to figure it out on his own.

"If you're planning on waiting for the right time, there's not gonna be one. There never is," Severide said, leaving it on that note as he got up. He stopped at the door and turned around, surveying Shay for a few moments. "Are you sure you're okay? You've barely moved an inch since I got back."

"I'm fine!" Shay practically spat out, tempted to add an equally sarcastic laugh. "Absolutely fine."

"Okay," he replied warily. "Well, I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

As Severide was about to turn around and leave, Shay called out and thanked him for the advice. That would certainly give her something to think about.

—

Dawson arrived not twenty minutes after Severide disappeared into his room, hands full with bags of groceries. Dumping them on the counter and putting the cold items in the fridge, she left the rest to sit there until later while she went to announce her return. When she reached Shay's room, she knocked upon entering, finding her right where she left her, literally.

"Hey, I'm back. Sorry I took so long. Got caught up at the register. How are you—" Dawson started.

"I'm fantastic!" Shay interrupted, ready to engage her speech on how she could absolutely take care of herself and could most definitely get out of bed on her own without difficulty. "And you know, just because I can't pick up the TV remote off the floor or carry a drink and plate at the same time, doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. I'm sick of people asking me if I'm okay! I'm fine, I mean just look at me. In fact, I actually don't really need any help at all, so you can just leave if you want."

Dawson stood by the doorway with her arms loosely crossed, watching in slight amusement as Shay continued to speak. "You're a little stuck, aren't you?" She asked once Shay finished her impressive last words.

Shay just looked at her, seconds passing. "No." Dawson lifted a disbelieving eyebrow, leading Shay to let out a sigh, conflicted by pride and her damn bladder. "Yes!" she blurted. "And I really have to pee," she added as a side note, eliciting a chuckle from Dawson.

Once up, Shay went to the bathroom while Dawson continued unpacking the groceries downstairs. By the time Shay emerged, Dawson was finishing cooking some mushroom, bacon, and tomato omelets. Dawson noticed that Shay had changed and was now wearing a floppy light blue and cream shirt with a pair of casual gray sweats.

"Good timing. Breakfast is ready."

"You mean lunch?" Shay corrected, a streak of playfulness in her tone.

Dawson looked at the clock. "Well, yeah. But it's still food, okay?" She shrugged.

"Smells good."

"Sure does. You're gonna love it."

Shay took a seat on the barstool, watching as Dawson slipped the delicious looking omelets from the frying pan onto two plates. She then garnished them a sprinkle of herbs, took out some cutlery, and served them up.

Shay hadn't even started eating and yet the mere smell made her mouth water. It wasn't until she took her first bite that she realized how hungry she was. The spongy, wispy eggs; crisp and crunchy bacon; smooth tomatoes; and soft mushrooms was a forkful of heaven. "Wow," Shay exhaled, her mouth full. "This is amazing. I think you need to come over more often! Get you to cook me more fabulous food."

"It is pretty amazing if I do say so myself," Dawson agreed, flashing a proud grin.

"Oh, how very cocky of you." Shay remarked.

"Hey, if you want chocolate and cherry slice, stop picking on me," Dawson said facetiously, pointing her fork accusingly at Shay.

Shay shut her mouth and kept eating.

The smell had obviously made its way upstairs since Severide came down. "What's that smell and is there any left?" he asked, skipping greetings and getting straight to the point.

"Yeah, there's some leftover bacon and mushrooms in the fridge if you want it," Dawson nodded.

Severide was stunned to see a fully stocked fridge when he opened it. It took him a couple of moments to get over the initial shock and locate the desired foil covered plate.

"Yes," Shay started in a prominent voice. "Dawson here took the liberty to go grocery shopping because a certain someone managed to forget five days in a row, even upon repetitively using the kitchen to cook with what little food was left."

Severide, a guilty look painted across his face, sheepishly gnawed on a piece of bacon.

"You'll be lucky if we let you have some chocolate and cherry slice later," Shay added, cocking an eyebrow.

Severide half smiled. "I see someone's back to their old self, cracking jokes and all."

"Oh, that's no joke," Shay raised her eyebrows and shook her head. She thought she heard an "okay" as Severide swiftly retreated back upstairs.

—

"So how's things with Casey?" Shay asked.

Dawson dropped the dish towel on the counter with a sigh. "I don't know."

Shay scoffed lightly. "What do you mean you don't know?"

Dawson sat down on the sofa next to Shay. "I don't know, I just.. I don't think I like him as much as I thought."

"Elaborate," Shay said, curious.

"Okay..." she started. "Well, I'm just not feeling how I used to: the tingling, the fuzziness, going out of my way for him to notice me." Dawson said, quietly adding, "besides, I think I may have feelings for someone else."

"Well come on, spill!" Shay said, flashing her signature wide grin.

"No!"

"Oh, come on, Dawson. Tell me!"

"No," Dawson chuckled, hoping the shakiness in her voice was only noticeable to herself. She shouldn't have said anything. It just slipped out anyway. She didn't want to say that she possibly had feelings for her best friend, not yet. First, she wanted to talk to a certain someone she trusted, express her thoughts and feelings and get their opinion. That was, of course, if she could actually muster the courage to say it out loud.

"Why the big secret? You can tell me anything, you know that," Shay said wholeheartedly, her hand automatically going to Dawson's arm.

"I know," Dawson replied, looking down at Shay's hand. She shook her head playfully. "God, I shouldn't have said anything. So what movie do you want to watch first?" She changed the subject abruptly and slithered down to the coffee table to review the stack of DVD's they'd selected earlier.

A side smirk flickered across Shay's mouth as she stole a glance below her, amused by Dawson's secretiveness. "Mm-hm, I'm letting you off this time," she remarked. Dawson smiled but didn't look up. "That one," Shay said as she pointed to the top DVD.

As Dawson readied the movie, Shay thought about what she had said. Maybe Dawson was available, maybe she wasn't. Maybe there was a chance for them to be more than just friends, maybe there wasn't. Shay didn't know. Now that there was this mysterious other in the picture, Shay considered she might not stand a chance. Dawson wouldn't just bring someone up—although technically she didn't—if she wasn't ready to talk about it. Shay found it strange that she wasn't opening up to her; she usually did.

For the umpteenth time Shay heard that annoying voice in her head repeat her mental reminder that Dawson was as straight as a ruler. Or so she thought.

* * *

**A/N: **Ugh, I feel like I'm always apologizing and here I go once more! I'm so sorry for the wait yet again; unfortunately things more important than writing (whaat?) have popped up and had to be taken care of.

Also I'd like to thank the lovely heyasass for betaing :)

**sandrakall** – Thank you :) Yes, it will eventually, but just know that this sort of thing doesn't just _happen_, so who knows. It might end up being a slow, irritating burn, or it could happen real soon. You'll just have to wait!

**Billy1990ism** – Thank you! Chicago Fire is pretty amazing am I right?

**srhittson** – Thanks! I know, people need to write more Shawson fics!

**twosocks75** – Thank you! And yes, I know! I don't think anyone should rush people together, it doesn't really happen that way in real life so why should it in fiction?

**emmywyso** – Thank you so much! I'm glad you can relate, it's good to know that that means I'm probably doing a good job at writing those parts hahah!

**TieMeDownToYourSoul** – Thanks!

**ShawsonOlicity** – I am :)

**Aeris Turunen **– Wait no longer!

**Miched8** – Thank you, I'm glad :) And I know, isn't she? Hahah


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Yet again, my apologies for the long wait! Blame writer's block, okay? Thank you to the wonderful heyasass for betaing and helping me figure out what to write. Also for those who forgot, Diego is Antonio's son.

* * *

Chapter 6

Skipping the rather irritating creaking stair, Severide made his way down to the main floor. It had been quiet for at least an hour, so he figured he'd safely avoid the bickering in order to top up on a midnight snack before going to bed. He was almost all the way down the spiral staircase when he saw the TV displaying the main menu of a movie, and his roommate and Dawson on the couch. It was only until he got closer that he noticed the pair were asleep.

Shay, wrapped in a blanket, had managed to make the awkward action of sleeping upright look somewhat comfortable with a mountain of pillows enveloping her. Dawson was curled into a half ball next to her, her head resting on an adjacent pillow. A woollen blanket had close to fallen off Dawson, draping onto the wooden floor.

Severide walked over to the lounge area and firstly pulled the blanket back over an ever so slightly stirring Dawson, before turning the TV off. The city lights coming through the windows illuminated the room enough for him to navigate through the apartment without causing the sleeping women further disturbance. With every little crunch or rustle, Severide glanced over at the couch to make sure he wasn't waking anyone.

Scouring the cupboard and fridge, he thought back to when Shay was asking for advice. It didn't take an expert to know she was referring to Dawson. He'd seen the way she looked at her. She lit up each time Dawson entered the room. He'd even noticed Dawson showing hints of reciprocation even if she didn't realize it; it was the way she acted around her. It wasn't the first time Severide had noticed this, but since the accident Dawson seemed to have upped her game. He wondered if they even realized what was going on between them or if it would have to hit them over the head for them to notice. Probably the latter, he thought. Or maybe they'd already noticed it, and we're just playing around, having some fun; he didn't know. But what he did know was that Dawson made Shay happy, even if it was just as friends, and that was good enough for him.

Severide suddenly felt as if he were a host for some cheesy matchmaking show, thinking about his best friend's relationship status at this hour. Last time he had checked it had been close to 1am, and that had been over half an hour ago. This was definitely not the time to be thinking, in general. And so he trudged up the staircase with a snack, wary of the squeaky step—he'd have to fix that—and let his mind be freed of all things, matchmaking or otherwise.

—

Early morning sunlight seeped through the window, disturbing Shay's comfortable slumber. Her senses slowly becoming more active, she noticed a weight pressed against her leg and she looked down to see a sleeping Dawson. She looked so peaceful and sweet. A curl of hair rested over her cheek, threatening to fall onto the pillow her head was resting on. Figuring it was safe from questioning since she was asleep, Shay reached down to gently trail the hair back beside her ear. Dawson's skin was so soft, warm. The picturesque scene in front of her made her crave a camera. Her mental image just wouldn't be enough. She couldn't imagine waking up to someone so beautiful each and every morning.

Stopping her mind before it got too carried away, Shay thought of other things. However, her gaze inadvertently directed itself toward Dawson as she thought. She didn't want to move in case it woke her. Something about watching her sleep was enchanting...and kind of creepy. She was sitting there watching her friend sleep, and said friend was completely unbeknownst to it.

Dawson suddenly stirred and half rolled onto her back. Her eyes groggily opened before landing on Shay's right above her. "Were you watching me sleep?" Dawson's early morning words were choppy as a small bodily stretch erupted from her.

Shay chuckled lightly, lying. "No."

Dawson didn't press, still too coated in sleep to bother. She lazily opened one eye and looked up at Shay before closing it again. "Did you sleep like that?"

"Mm-hmm."

"It doesn't look comfortable."

"It was okay," Shay half shrugged.

"Good." After a couple of seconds Dawson sucked in a deep breath and sighed, easing herself up to a sitting position. "How long've you been awake?"

"Not that long. I was about to get up but I didn't want to wake you."

Dawson looked at the positioning of the pillows. "Oh yeah, sorry for falling asleep on you," she said, lifting a corner of her mouth into a sympathetic crooked smile.

Shay shook her head, "No, that's fine. You kept my legs warm so I'm not complaining."

Dawson smiled. "I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Any preferences?"

"Honey, you could make cereal taste like a tiny band rocking out to Elvis inside my mouth—make whatever you want!" Shay quipped.

Dawson couldn't contain her laughter.

—

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, Dawson stared at her reflection. She tucked her hair behind her ears, prolonging this ridiculous idea she was about to carry out. She continued her procrastination by scanning over her face, mentally pointing out her supposed flaws and blemishes. She couldn't believe she was going to do this; it wasn't like it was going to prove anything.

Finally, after practically hearing the clock getting louder with each tick, she opened her mouth, "I'm... gay."

It felt so strange to say it out loud, almost wrong, even if it was just to her own reflection. She just wanted to know what it would sound like to come from her own mouth, to hear the words if it were to be true. Despite knowing she was the only one at her place, she still found herself turning around to check behind her.

"I'm gay," she repeated to the mirror. Now it just sounded like words. It didn't mean anything. Maybe it was just because no one was around, that no one was there to judge. She'd been telling herself not to think about her confusion and just go with it, but it wasn't working. It always reverted to the same questions: "Am I in love with my best friend?" "Am I gay?" Not knowing the answers was killing her.

It wasn't as though it would solve her problems by talking to him, but later that day she planned to pay a visit to Antonio—if she could even bring herself to go there in the first place. She trusted him enough to drop this on him and for him to not tell anyone until she was sure.

She turned and walked out of the bathroom, retrieving her phone and checking her messages. She'd sent Antonio a message earlier, asking if he was home, but she hadn't received a reply yet. She decided to just take her chances and turn up.

—

Dawson sat in her car outside Antonio's house. She was having trouble bringing herself to open the door and get out. She felt silly for that, but the more she thought about telling someone out loud that she possibly had feelings for her best friend who she worked with, who also happened to be a woman, the more it terrified her.

She wondered what Antonio would say; if he would be just as confused, or if he would be accepting, or just brush it off as friendly attraction. Maybe she should just leave out the female part, asking him for general relationship advice. Then again, the whole reason she was coming to Antonio was to try talking to him about her confusion.

Maybe she wasn't ready for this after all. She should just go back home and forget about it. It wasn't like her to ask Antonio for simple relationship advice anyway.

A tap on the car window startled Dawson, making her heart race. When she turned she saw Diego standing there with the same goofy grin his dad always got. Recovering quickly, she wound down her window. "Hey, little man," she greeted him.

"Hey, Auntie Gabby," he replied. "What are you doing here?"

She let out a small chuckle, "I could ask you the same thing! Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I felt sick so dad said I didn't have to go."

"Uh-huh. And is that why you're outside shooting some hoops?" She looked at the basketball tucked under his arm. Diego's face dripped with guilt as he bowed his head. Dawson inwardly laughed at his attempts. "Is your dad home?" She changed the subject, gesturing towards the house.

Diego nodded. "He's inside watching sports."

Dawson was surprised she couldn't hear him yelling at the TV from outside.

"Do you want me to go get him?"

"No, that's okay," Dawson shook her head. "I'll talk to him after; I wanna hear about that basketball game of yours on Saturday! How did you go?"

Although she was sincerely interested in her nephew's game, she also figured it would be the perfect delay. Thanks to Diego springing up on her, now she, at the very least, had to say hi to her brother. It was too late to turn back now.

"That's great!" Dawson replied once her nephew had finished chattering. Diego's team had won of course, 3 points ahead.

Figuring it was strange, just sitting there in the car, she undid her seatbelt, took the keys out of the ignition, and opened the door. It was like the door to the house was tethered to the car door, one opening as the other closed. Antonio came out with a rather concerned look on his face, but softened upon seeing Dawson. Dawson figured he must've come looking for Diego. He walked over, telling his son not to disappear from the backyard without telling him first.

"Hey," Antonio greeted once he reached the pair. "What are you doing here?"

_In the neighborhood, figured I'd drop in; just came to say hi; wanted to know how Diego went on the weekend._ She quickly came up with things she could say to deviate from the actual reason. She could feel herself chickening out. But she was going to do this. She knew this thought would later be questioned a dozen times, but the things she thought about Shay, the way she found herself acting around her, the way she felt... She most certainly had feelings for her. Maybe she had felt uncomfortable with them before, and maybe she was too scared to admit it to herself. But she knew there were undoubtedly amorous feelings there. There was no point in denying them anymore. The more she thought about it, the more she realized just how strong and persistent they were. She didn't want to keep questioning herself; it was becoming more than a nuisance in her daily life. She knew talking to Antonio wouldn't completely clear things up, but at least she'd have confided in someone. So she was just going to do it. No more procrastinating, dodging, or delaying.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

* * *

**Guest** – thanks!

**Billy1990ism** – agh I'm so glad you're liking it! I'm sorry it's taken this long to update though :( Next chapter won't be as long a wait!

**srhittson** – Thank you!

**Anonymous** – Thank you :)


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